Being Human
by JasminSilver
Summary: He should have been careful, but he hadn't. He was in mission, he could not afford to become distracted, yet he had let her catch his eye. Dammit, he knew better! He had survived for days alone in the wild, he had tracked criminal, he had killed more than he cared to count and yet, he had made a rookie mistake. Tust no one, never let your guard down. Might become M later.
1. Chapter 1

I made corrections to the chapters, some might be important in the end =)

* * *

Outcome five was resting. Well, at least he was lying down an uncomfortable cot, unmoving. He was never really resting, an Outcome never rests, never fully sleeps: that would imply being in a secure location, alone. Trust no one; never let your guard down. That little sentence had kept him alive all this time, so he was lying on his back, eyes closed and seemingly asleep.

It never ceased to amaze him how the chem worked. He, once, was a normal, average man without any chance of doing anything exceptional with is life until they recruited him. Why him, that much remained unclear, possibly because in case of an untimely end no one would come looking for him. He had always been a loner, not always by choice, but the fact remained: he had been a nobody. Technically speaking, he was still a nobody; actually he no longer existed in any database, any embassy, nor country. He still remembered his old name, but it had no real meaning to anyone except him anymore, it was merely a souvenir of long passed life. So he had been select to become a kind of expensive guinea pig in project Outcome. A such, he had given at least a pint of blood in blood test in the last few months along with a huge amount of other tests he could not even name. He had been undressed, scrutinized, scanned, X-rayed and virtually cut open a few times. His breathing pattern had been studied along with his metabolism and his sight. Once he had been deemed worthy, he had been asked to present himself every week at the labs where he would receive pills. Some lady doctor in white lab coat had explained to him, as she would have to a potted plant, that he would have to take one blue pill and green pill every day for a time period of one month. Each week, he would have to submit "blood work kit" properly completed and pass about five tests so that they could track the progress made.

The month had come and gone and many others had followed. After a while, he stopped counting. At least, he had stopped to do it consciously. He could actually tell exactly how many times he had come to the labs, how many blood work vials he had filled, how many pills he had taken, how many people were in a crowd, how heavy was a certain piece of furniture, how long he could run at a precise speed at a precise altitude... This was how the chem worked and it amazed him. He had been sent files and files to memorize, technical videos to master, logical puzzles to solve and it had been so simple! He had never been that bright. In fact, he had been below average before the chems, and he could never have mastered so many new techniques and memorized so many facts in so little time. These pills did not only affect his brain! No, they had changed is body to. At first, he thought it was the prescribed training program that worked wonders, but it soon appeared to be impossible. His bone structure had changed! He had always been fit, but since the lab he had become Olympic! It had been painful, but his shoulders, wrists and ankles had broaden, he had taken about 3 inches and his muscle mass had tripled. Yes, the chems were amazing.

If he was now faking sleep in this terrible little cot, it was because it had been his final month at the labs. He had been informed that the chems worked just fine, that he showed no sign of adverse effects (not that he had been informed that he could suffer from any) and that he was ready for field training. He had reported to the lab at 0600 and had been sent to some kind of bunker underground in a forest far up north.

There, he had been equipped with a basic survival kit, fatigues, winter gear and a knife and informed that he would be dropped in an unknown location from which he would have to come back to base. Should he encounter any other human being en route, he was to avoid detection and if impossible, he was forbidden to engage in any conversation. The doctors in the bunker had given him a day of rest before the mission. He suspected it had something to do with the cut that had been made in his tight before he left the labs. Probably some tracker, he thought. They weren't about to loose such a precious experiment at it first outing!

He must have dozed off, because he woke with a start at the sound of keys unlocking his room's door. He was instantly on his feet, in combat stance, all sign of the night's sleep gone from his face, except for his sandy blond hair that struck out at awkward angle. A nameless doctor greeted him with a brief " 'morning" and handed him a black cowl. Apparently, the location of his drop was to be very unknown...

From the sound of it, he had been dropped from a helicopter. No his cowl had not been removed prior to him being kicked out at about 10 meters from the ground and he landed gracelessly with a grunt in the snow. Immediately he took the cowl off, only to see the helicopter fly away in direction of a mountain. He had absolutely no way of knowing if the base was that way or if he was being mislead. There was absolutely no way he could relate anything he was seeing now to any maps he had studied in the past months. He would have to get to a high point to identify his surroundings. Considering he was in a forest, climbing a tree would not do, he would have to climb the nearest mountain. According to his chem enhanced mapping capacity, he established he would need about 6 hours to get to a good viewpoint. From the sun's height he had about 7 hours of light before him. It would be a close timing, as he had to set up a camp for the night once he arrived. Without waiting a minute more, he began his walk. He chose to alternate between light run and walk to save both time and energy, there was no way of knowing if he would encounter any wild animal in the woods.

He arrived without too much trouble at a good viewpoint just as he had estimated. From the sun's place in the sky, north was at 2 o'clock, south at 8, east and west at 5 and 11. There was a large empty space between 1 and 3 that could be a frozen lake, but it was hard to say at this distance. There was no sign of a path or any man made outpost or installation. He was presently standing in the lowest part of a little 3 mountains chain that went from southeast to northwest. According to the maps he had studied and if the "could be lake" was indeed a lake; he was close to the Alaska frontier with the northern territories. As such, the base he had to return to should be due south for about 3 days until he arrived at a river, than he would have to walk for about 2 days against the stream and he would be close by. Considering he had dried food packed for 3 days at best, he came to the conclusion he would have to hunt or starve.

For the moment, though, the sun was going down and he still had to find shelter and possibly light a little fire for the night. It was risky at best for it would undoubtedly raise attention if anyone was close by (which he doubted) but it was probably -25C and there was no way he would live through the night without it. He would have to be extra careful tonight, he thought.

* * *

Extra careful. He should have been, but he hadn't. He was in mission; he could not afford to become distracted, yet he had let her catch his eye. Damnit, he knew better! He had survived for days alone in the wild, he had tracked criminal, he had killed more than he cared to count and yet, he had made a rookie mistake. Trust no one; never let your guard down.

* * *

She had come to him one night after a nasty fight. He was wearing a dark grey hoodie underneath a leather jacket with the hood up to cover his bruised face and obviously badly hiding a limp to avoid attracting attention. He did not normally end up like this after a fight, but he had faced a heavily trained man (another asset gone rogue he had thought at the time) and had ended up getting thrown down a 3rd floor window after being almost knocked out by his opponent. Of course he had terminated the mark, but it had been a very close call.

- I'm sorry sir, but I can't help but notice you seem to be in a lot of pain. Could I do something to help? She asked so politely.

At first, he thought he should refuse the help she offered him, but it had been a long time since he had been spoken to as a human being (yes it sounded pathetic to him as he reflected upon it later, but at the time, it made perfect sense), so he replied.

- Yeah, I'd like that, he managed to mumble through swollen lips. Though I'd rather avoid hospitals.

- Your life, your choices! She relied a little doubtfully. Do you live close by or should we go to my flat?

She could not be allowed to enter his place. It contained 3 guns (one in the nightstand drawer, one in the shower and one in the fridge), 2 knives (one under the bed, one in the bathroom), a secured computer with very secret files in it, pictures of his marks, maps... No, she could definitely not go to his place.

- Your place would be best, he answered quickly.

So she guided him to a little apartment in a tiny street and invited him inside.

It was cozy looking if a little messy. There were books and papers on every flat surface, two empty glass (one on a book shelve and another near the sofa) and soft music classical music was playing.

- Sorry for the mess, she hastily apologized, I never have anyone over and my cat does not mind the books, she finished with a quiet laugh.

Outcome five was busy locating the exits and potential weapons in the rooms as he always did. When he did not offer any kind of response, she went to get her first aid kit in the closet near the bathroom.

- I can offer you tea if you like, or water, or juice, he spoke from afar.

- Water, would be fine, he answered while looking quickly through he kitchen door.

He was searching for hidden weapon over the bookshelves when she came back with her arms full of bandage boxes, chlorexidine bottle and elastic bandages. To avoid suspicion he almost jumped in a sitting position in the sofa, wincing when his hip made contact with the armrest.

- I almost forgot the painkillers, here, take these. It's acetaminophen, but I'm afraid I don't have anything stronger at the moment. I'll get you a glass of water. You might want to take your coat off while I do that, she told him while placing all her material on the carpet in front of him, obvious to his sneaking around.

While she was not looking at him, he sniffed and examined the pills, more out of habit than real suspicion and removed his leather jacket and hoodie. Underneath, he was wearing a black t-shit a little tight around the shoulders with jeans and black walking boots that had obviously seen a lot of action going by the state of the seams.

When she came back with the water, he thanked her and gulped it down along with the pills.

- It won't do much, but it might numb the pain a little, she said while looking at his face. They really gave you a beating! You're lucky to be alive you know?

He scoffed lightly. Yes, he was lucky to be alive except she seems to be the only person with him to care about it. That little remark made him feel a little more human, a little less like the engineered killer he was.

- I'm Arianne by the way, you?

There was a little delay before he gave his answer.

- I'm Aaron.

It was against all protocols to give his real agent name, he should have used Ryan, his alias for the mission, but his guard was down. After almost 5 month tracking his mark, avoiding all human contact, depriving himself from his most basic needs, he needed this little break. She could not be dangerous, she had much too nice a smile for that. Wait, what was he thinking!

- Well Aaron, let's get you washed up. I think those cuts will need stitches, but it could look worst than it really is. You never know with the face, it bleeds so much, she said while bringing a warm, wet cloth to his brow.

He did not even utter a sound when she wiped the blood away. He tightened his jaw and focused his attention on her face.

It was beautiful, slightly round but not childish, she could not be more than 25. Her eyes were large and hazel framed by long eyelashes. She wore no make-up. At the moment her pink, full lips were slightly parted in concentration for she was cleaning his left eye that was purple and swollen. She had a very pale complexion with short dark brown hair. She was kneeling between his legs and had placed one hand on his right arm to steady herself while working. Her hand radiated a comforting heat trough his sleeve. He sighted lightly; it was so pleasant to be taken care of.

- Sorry, Arianne said immediately, removing the cloth from his face, did I hurt you?

She was scrutinizing his face for any sign of hidden pain or discomfort.

- No, not at all, I'm just tired.

- I'll try to hurry up. If you want, you can sleep here tonight. The sofa's all yours. It's nearly midnight and I would feel guilty to kick you out after what you've just been trough.

- Thanks, Aaron said. You know, you should not apologize so much. You're incredibly nice.

- Sor..., she chuckled and smiled at him. I haven't stitched your face yet, you might change your mind.

- I won't.

As he said that, he looked at her dead in the eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster. She shivered under his gaze and broke eye contact to get the needle and tread.

- I have no xilocaine, this is going to hurt, are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? She said, still avoiding his gaze.

- Yes, quite sure. You can do it, I won't move.

And so she proceeded.

* * *

It is not the end! Another chapter will come someday :D

I would love to have feed back, it won't take long, please. Also if someone could be so kind as to point out my mistakes I would be very grateful.


	2. Chapter 2

Contains mature content at in the last paragraph. It is a bit graphic, so please, be warned.

* * *

Aaron was surprised to see that Arianne used surgical pliers to stitch him up.

- You often sew brawler's faces?

She chuckled.

- No, but I like to be prepared for anything. I salvaged those, she said, waiving the pliers that were not holding the needle, from the hospital I work in. They do not fit surgical criteria anymore, for sterilization and all... Don't worry, though, I washed them with chlorexidine.

- I was not worried, I was impressed, Aaron said. You're a surgeon of some kind?

She smiled while she answered, finishing a stitch above is eyebrow.

- No, I'm a nurse. I've never worked in a surgery room. Actually, I learned to stitch on YouTube!

- Interesting hobby, he added with a lopsided grin.

She finished her work in silence, covering the stitches with little gaze bandages and made recommendation as to the proper care of said stitches.

- You'll have to take them off in about seven days, or if you prefer, you can come back here and I'll take them off for you.

Without waiting for him to reply, she stood up from between his legs and proceeded to pack and store the remaining bandages still thrown on the carpet. Aaron was picking up his shirt, preparing to leave. He winced as he stood up. Bloody hip, he thought. Arianne, who was now in the closet next to the bathroom, storing her first aid kit, heard him and immediately asked:

- Don't you think it would be best if you slept here tonight? My proposition still stands: the couch is yours and I have an extra duvet, she added proudly as if it was a point of capital importance in the decision.

It was not best and he new it. It was a mistake to have agreed to get her help in the first place. He had a tracking device in his thigh; They knew where he was 24/7. His presence here was endangering her very life. He also knew he had not been close to anyone in a long time, four months and 22 days to be exact. She had been the first person in almost 2 years to whom he had divulged is real agent name, the first in about the same time to show concern for his well-being, comfort and health. He could still feel the heat of her hand on his arm, her breath on his face, her presence between his legs. It would definitely not be wise to sleep here tonight, yet he answered her:

- Yeah, you're right. It would be best.

Everything in his chem enhanced brain was screaming: "you'll regret this", but he ignored it. He longed to feel human, and this was his reward for taking care of the contract.

A few minutes later, Arianne was back with a fluffy looking pillow, clean sheets, a very warm looking wool blanket and the promised duvet.

- I'm afraid I don't have any pajamas for you. As I told you, I'm not used to have visitors. I brought you a t-shirt, it's quite large and it might fit you.

- Really, you should not have gone trough so much trouble for me, a simple blanket would have been perfect.

- Nonsense, it's a pleasure, she said to him with a large smile.

What a lovely smile, he thought.

- You can get changed in the bathroom while I prepare your bed. If you want to shower, be carful not to wet the bandages or it will start to bleed again.

He picked the shirt and walked in the direction she had come from.

- First door on the left, she told him merrily.

There was a large mirror on the bathroom door. As he undressed, he used it to evaluate the damage from the fight. His ribs were badly bruised on his left side along with his shoulder blade and hip. The skin was purple, red and extremely sensible. Fortunately, he had managed to avoid being cut or shot at by his adversary and had, miraculously, not sustained any fracture in his fall. His knuckles were bloody, but except from washing them, there was nothing he could do. He stepped in the shower and allowed the warm water to rinse of the sweat and grime he was covered in, being extra carful not to let the water run on his face. He sighed in comfort. Turning the water off, he stepped out and proceeded to dry himself and put on his boxers and the t-shirt she had selected for him. It was indeed large enough for him, and even a little long. It was not surprising considering she was about three inch taller than he was. He was strangely relieved to notice it was plain black and not pink, or girly. Having seen her house and how she dressed, it was logical though. She dressed in blue, grey and black and her house was also in similar colors.

A discreet knock on the door distracted him from his thought.

- Your bed is ready. Help yourself to some food if you're hungry, I'm off to sleep.

Being dressed, he opened the door to thank her but he had a moment of hesitation. She must have changed her clothes while he was himself getting dressed, for she was now wearing a tight, a bit too short, white tank top with blue pajama pants exposing her waist. Though it was nothing provocative or indecent, he felt strangely aroused by the sight of her bare skin. He could even see the relief of her nipples trough the light fabric and the soft curve of her small breasts. Seeing his eyes roaming her body like this made her cheeks take slight pink tone, and she crossed her arms on her chest. Sensing her discomfort, he lowered his eyes and managed to thank her like he had intended to.

Wishing him a good night, she retired to her room, which was situated at the end of the short corridor. A black cat ran behind her, she picked it up and petted it for a little while before it started purring.

Seeing her showing so much affection, caressing the black fur with her long fingers did nothing to help Aaron change his course of thinking. Shaking his head, as to change the content of his brain, he proceeded to the living room where he was to spend the night. He lowered himself on the sofa and nearly moaned in comfort as his spine aligned itself in the comfy pillows. It was quite an upgrade from the miserable hard bed he had occupied for the last five months. He allowed himself a few minutes to simply enjoy the feeling before pulling the blankets over him, closing his eyes and turning on his uninjured side to sleep. His last conscious thought went to Arianne, in her white tank top, her warm hands on his body, caressing his face, his chest, his abdomen, slowly lowering to his thighs. Darkness overtook him before he could imagine any further.

* * *

Despite being in an unknown location, with an unknown person sleeping in the next room and without an alarm set on the door, he slept as he had rarely slept before. When he woke up, he felt like only a few seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. The curtains had been drawn, probably a courtesy of his hostess, so it was fairly dark in the living room, but the bright light shining in the kitchen told him it was probably well passed 9 o'clock.

Noises coming from the kitchen caught his attention. Training taking over, he noiselessly got up and snuck to the kitchen door, taking a pair of scissors forgotten on the table next to the sofa. A quick glance at the reflexion on the microwave door told him Arianne was alone in the kitchen, serving cat food. Relaxing, he placed the scissors on the counter and spoke up.

- 'Morning.

Arianne almost jumped out of her skin, nearly dropping the bowl on her cat's head.

- Shit, you scared me Aaron! I never heard you coming!

- I didn't mean to scare you, I thought there was somebody else in the house. I came to investigate, he answered.

- Well, it's only Lucifer and me, as usual. Are you hungry?

She had named the cat Lucifer? What a bizarre name. Yet it fitted the cat well he thought. It had large sulfur yellow slanted eyes and a pitch-black fur that reminded him of coal.

- I really don't want to impose, I'll leave you be.

- You're not imposing at all! I like to have someone to talk to once in a while, she added smiling sadly.

- A woman as kind and as beautiful as you mustn't have a lot of trouble finding people to talk to, he said without thinking.

She blushed lightly again.

- I talk to people at work, of course, but I'm a bit slow to trust and I tend to be nice, yet cold to people I don't trust, she added, looking at her feet in embarrassment.

- Slow to trust? You just let me, perfect strangers, wounded you don't even know how, sleep in your house!

There was a little silence before she answered.

- I trusted you because you were wounded. I didn't think you would cause much trouble in the state you were in.

- I see... He added lamely.

There was another silence, longer this time.

- Do you want breakfast? I can cook eggs if you like.

- I'll have what you're having, he said with a little smile.

- Toasts, cheese and soy milk it is than!

- It sounds perfect, can I help you with anything?

They talked a bit while eating. She told him about her work, her family that lived away. He told her about the cities he had visited, avoiding any details that could lead her to discover his job. He invented he was traveling for business deals. When she asked about his family he was vague, saying they had lost contact due to incompatible opinions. It was closer from the truth that he would have liked, but it only made the lie easier to tell. Was he married? No, his frequent travels made it hard for him to really establish a stable relation. Was she seeing someone? No, she laughed a little, smiling. Oh, that smile, it was so warm, so perfect. She was too strange; nobody was interested. To that he had merely nodded, avoiding her eyes, thinking she couldn't have been more wrong. After that, he helped her clean up the kitchen and told her he had a job to go to.

He left a little before 11 o'clock, stepping in a passing bus to leave her no clue as to where he was going. Hours after reaching his flat, packing his things and getting ready to leave town like he did after every mission, he still thought of her: Arianne, her smile, her warm hands, the way she made him feel human. That line of thought brought him back to last night, the way he had thought of her touching him. He lay back on his bed, unbuckling his belt, opening his jeans. He was already half hard just thinking of her; it had really been a long time since he had indulged in such simple pleasure. Rubbing his hardening shaft through the light fabric of his boxers he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fantasize about her. He quickly lowered his boxers as the thought became more heated. It was not him who was creating that delicious friction and rubbing the pre-cum slicked head anymore. It was her hand giving him pleasure, her mouth and not his hand caressing his neck, pinching his hardening nipples. It was her hand he sloppily covered with white, sticky cum as he reached completion, and it was against her neck and not his own hand that he muffled his final grunt.


	3. Chapter 3

I made a few little changes in this chapter since I published it. I didn't like so much a fray baby Aaron...even though he has every reasons to be.

Yet I liked him a title more badass :)

enjoy!

* * *

Establishing a relation was forbidden for the assets. It had been explained to him times and times over: these people become liabilities, they slow you down, make you weak. That way of thinking had been seared in his brain, by the chems, by the training, by everyone. His lust sated, these notions assailed his consciousness. He fought back, with all his might. Deep inside his subconscious, there was still a few thoughts left untouch by the chems. There was still a few vestiges of humanity left in him, and he planned on using all of it to preserve the memory of his time with Arianne. He would do everything that was in his power to see her again.

* * *

Her appartment was back to its former appearance. The sofa was no longer a bed, Lucifer was again her only companion and she was bored. She knew Aaron was never meant to say, but she found herself missing him. He had been nice if a bit mysterious and she was hoping, knowing it would never happen, he would be back, if only in a week to take the stitches off. She had been unnerved by his looks, rather smoldering looks at times, but for the first time in years she had felt attracted to someone. She was not a very social person, that much was clear, but neither did she felt the need to develop a romantic relationship. She had been exposed to so many unhappy couples... So many divorces, she could not bring herself to risk inflicting such pain on herself. Or so it had been before she met Aaron.

With all her thinking, she was going to be late for work. Packing a clean uniform, she said good bye to her cat, and left the house.

It was a beautiful autumn day outside and the wind was lifting the fallen leaves. She smiled, enjoying the sun's heat on her face while she waited for the bus.

When she arrived on her unit, two of the colleagues came to her, looking concerned.

- Thank God, you're OK, said Kelly, joining her hand.

- What happened? Why would I not be OK?

- You live near St-John Street, don't you, asked Ben.

- Yes, but I don't see why you're all so troubled?

- There as been a murder, screamed Kelly.

- Don't you read the news? It's all over the medias. A man as been brutally assaulted in his house. Can you imagine! Read, it's all in here, explained Ben, handing her a newspaper.

" _Yesterday, between 2200 and midnight, a man was severely beaten and strangulated at in the alley beside his domicile. There as been no witness of the even except for a neighbor, who, alarmed by the noises called the police. It seems the assailant and the victime fell by the window during the struggle which then continued in the alley where the victim met his end. The police can not divulge any informations concerning the victim, but according to our sources, the man was 33 and worked as a science teacher in high school. The assailant remains unknown. Should anyone have information concerning this case, they must contact their local police station to make a deposition_."

Thanking everyone for their concerns, Arianne assured them she had seen nothing unusual. She had arrived ather house at 2350 and had gone to sleep around 0100, as always. Even though she kept a reassured face for the sake of her colleagues, she could not help but think about her mysterious patient. How had he got his face smashed like this. Where was that limp coming from? Could he really be the murderer the police we looking after? Burying those thoughts far away in a little corner of her brain, she went about her evening.

* * *

It had been a week since the incident on St-John Street and Arianne was secretly hoping her mysterious patient would be back. Today was her day off, so, feeling like a little girl with a crush, she had prepared for his arrival, placing the scissors and the pliers in a bowl with a bottle of chlorexidine beside. She had even bought Steri-Strips the day before, just in case. She had searched the newspaper and the web for information concerning the murder, but she had been unsuccessful. It seemed someone high enough didn't want it to be made public. She was both disappointed and glad about that. Disappointed she would not know for sure if it had been Aaron and glad, well, for the same reason. She had been conflicted for a while about calling the police to let them know about him. Surely he was innocent, he would have an alibi and it would be over. The thing was, she didn't know much about him. She knew his name was Aaron, but he had given her no surname. He had strong and callous hands and was able to sneak terribly well. She also knew, he was about her height, maybe a tad shorter, had sandy blond hair, handsome stubble, beautiful dark brown eyes, the body of a Greek god and a very pleasant low voice that, for reason unknown, reminded her of violet velvet. She highly doubted the police would find her description adequate...

It was nearly 2300 now, and she had not seen nor heard of him yet. Sadly acknowledging she would most likely never hear of him again, she settled in the sofa and with a book. Half an hour later, she was startled by the doorbell. Jumping to her feet, she almost ran to the door and looked through the peephole.

The sight was disappointing at best. It was a lanky, dark haired man. He was wearing an old and tattered beige jacket with equally tattered jeans. Curious about why such a man would come ring at her house at such a time, she asked through the closed door:

- Who are you sir? What are you doing here at such a late hour?

The man answered with a croaky voice:

- I've come to give you a message. He told me I has to give it to you and only you, directly in your hands. Now open the door so I can get done with it.

As he sensed her hesitation he added with a smile:

- I won't bite.

Choosing to trust him out of curiosity, she opened the door just a little bit. As she did so, he picked a letter and a battered rose out of his jacket pocket.

- Here. Take it, he said thrusting his hand forward through the little opening.

She picked it up and as soon as the exchange was completed, the man bolted out in the street muttering something about stupid shy man and boneless lovers. A little startled by this unexpected turn of event, Arianne opened the letter. Thinking that hopefully it would bring light on the matter. The paper was crumpled and the writing was hastily scrawled, but it read as such:

_" Forgive me for this masquerade, but I fear my coming to you house for a second time would be a bad idea both for me and you. Thought I wish circumstances allowed me to do otherwise, I will be waiting for you in the park three street down from your appartment. I would understand if you chose not to make it to the rendezvous, but if you come, I promise to explain why I'm acting this of how you choose to act, I will always be grateful for the kindness you showed me. Please accept this rose as a token of my affection._

_Yours truly,_

_A"_

With a huge smile plastered on her face, she went to her room and hastily put a pair of blue jeans on, along with a black tank top and a dark grey sweat shirt with a hood. Running back to the front door, she slipped on her converses, not even bothering to tie them up. Remembering to grab her keys, she slipped the scissors in her pocket and ran down the stairs before making her way to the park, half running, half skipping. For some reason, her heart was beating furiously in her rib cage and she felt like she had a thousand butterflies trapped in her belly.

* * *

It was 2238 and he was nervous. First and for most, she was not yet here. Had the junky he paid forgot to deliver the letter? Had she been to scared to come out? Was she not interested in seeing him again? Secondly, he was sitting on a bench, in the middle of a park, at night when he should have been in the train heading to his next assignment, which made him a perfect target for a sniper. Thirdly, he add that tracker in his thigh which meant They new where he was. Fourthly, ... What ever troubled him fourthly was forgotten: she was there, at the corner of the street. She had been running, he could tell by her breathing pattern. She was also looking a bit everywhere, so he stood up and walked to her. When she saw him, she also made her way to him, altering between jogging, walking and skipping, like she didn't know which was best. They stopped about a meter from each other, neither knowing very well what to say.

- You came, he said, breaking the ice.

- Of course, she replied instantly. I was hoping to see you again.

- Me too..., he added, uncertain of what to say next.

Out of the blue she said enthusiastically:

- May I?

- Wha... , he never got the chance to finish his sentence, for she closed the distance between the in a step and encircled him with her arms, hugging him tight.

Unaccustomed to such display of affection, and coming very close to reacting according to his training, he stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity. Sensing his unease, she made to release him but before she could do so he murmured:

- No, and placed one hand on the small of her back and the other on the back of her head, bring her closer to him.

They stayed like this for a little while, her pressing her cheek on his shoulder and clinching on his jacket like her life depended on it, and him lightly petting her hair and breathing in the crook of her neck. He never wanted to let go, like this embrace was the only thing keeping him alive. He could feel her body heat slowly diffusing through him, soothing him, allowing him to forget for a moment that he was a soulless, engineered killer. For a moment, he could almost believe he was the kind of men that was allowed to enjoy the company of such a wonderful woman. That perfect moment came to an end though when he told her regretfully:

- We should move. It's to exposed here.

- Why, are you in some kind of trouble? She asked, reluctantly loosing her embrace to look at him square in the eyes.

- You probably would not believe it even if I explained it to you, but I will, none the less. Though not here. Follow me, he answered almost pleadingly.

She lightly nodded and they began to walk toward a dark alley. Aaron kept checking in every shadows, every nooks of every streets, over his shoulder... He was wary of every pedestrian they encountered and of every car that passed them by. He seemed to relax a little when they arrived to a shabby looking hotel. Half the lights in the luminous ensign were either burned or dangerously flickering, indicating they would not last much longer and the windows sills' painting had clearly seen better days. Looking around one last time, he motioned her to enter.

The inside was ,if possible, worst than the outside. Everything was at least 30 years old and dirty, plus the place reeked of cold cigarette smoke. Arianne looked at him doubtfully. Without a word, he leaned over the deserted reception counter and picked the key 207. Placing a hand lightly on her back, he guided her toward the stairs and they climbed up. Once they arrived to the room, he entered first and proceeded to inspect both the little bathroom and the bedroom to make sure nothing had been touched and that no one was hiding inside. Aaron's bizarre behaviors were making her anxious. Who was he hiding from? Worst even, why? Why was he hiding like that? Had it something to do with the state he was in when she first met him? Had it something to do with the covered-up murder on St-John Street?

Obviously, the appartment was has he had left it, for he asked her to come in and motioned for her to sit on the bed. She complied, but her distrust was apparent and it made him feel terrible. He had no right to expose her to the danger of being near him simply because she made him feel human! He was about to apologize for dragging her halfway across the city when she spoke in a dangerously contained voice, like someone utterly furious but with enough self-control to avoid bursting out:

- Could you now please explain to me why you did what you did? By that, I mean dragging me here, without explaining anything, while checking everywhere at once like you expect the sky to fall on your head?

At that, he sighed and bent forward, hiding his face in his hands.

- Look, I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I know it is terribly selfish of me but I really wanted to see you again. He paused for a bit than took a long deep breath and began speaking again.

- I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote to you... I endangered you too much already only by agreeing to come to your house a week ago. Not daring to look at her, in fear he would see disgust and horror, he continued, keeping his head in his hands.

- I am dangerous Arianne, the people whom I work for are dangerous. What I tell you is confidential, need to know basis only. You must not, under any circumstances, repeat any of this to anyone. Do you understand?

- Yes, she breathed, I understand. Her voice was this close to breaking and her troat was constricted for she saw how what he was about to say hurted him.

- It began two and a half year ago. I was and average man, serving years in the army when they approached me. They told me I had been chosen for a experimental proceedure, some kind of super soldier program. I had left all my life behind when I enlisted, I had no family to go back to, no job waiting for me, no house... I was a nobody with nothing to lose, so I agreed. For days, weeks even, I underwent tests to determine wether I was truly worthy of being experimented on. It was finally decided that I was a perfect candidate, so they explained the procedures to me and the training I would receive. Here, look, those pills contain what I've become. He opened the little box he wore around his neck and showed her the little pills.

She remained unmoving on the bed, her face unreadable, so he continued.

- Don't ask me how, but they managed to modify both my body and mind. They made me stronger, tougher, faster, brighter. They taught me to be a surviver, to be vigilant. They taught me how to kill. They made me into an assassin, he finished, tears threatening to drop from his eyes. He took three shaky inspirations trying to keep his countenance.

- The school teacher that was murdeer the night I met you, was it your doing, she asked in a strangled voice.

- Yes, he answered, his voice hoarse, he was an asset, that's another trained assassin. He had gone rogue. You have to understand, They give orders. I cannot say no. These pills bind me to Them. Without Them, I am nothing, he finished choking off a sob.

Beside him, he heard a gasp and felt the bed shift. Just has he thought she was about to leave the room running and screaming, he felt her arm around his shoulders. Feeling a little stronger knowing she was not afraid, or at least not yet running away, he spoke again.

- You were the first person in two and a half years to whom I got close to. You made me feel human... I needed to see you again. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, a single tear ran on his cheek.

They stayed like this for a while. Her arm around his shoulders ,rubbing soothing circles on his back. Him, shaking with countained sobs, trying desperatly to keep tears from falling freely from his eyes. When Aaron had regained his composure, she removed her arm and spoke in a low voice.

- Can I trust you Aaron? Is your name even Aaron? It's quite a lot to take in you know. All of that.

He cleared his troat before answering.

- Yes. You can trust me. I'd die before I let anything happen to you.

He said that last part looking strait into her eyes. He wanted to convey all of what he felt in that look.

- My name is Aaron Cross and I am an Outcome agent.

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so, how do you like it so far? Let me know! :)


	4. Chapter 4

It's shorter that the other chapters, sorry. Please, let me know what you think of it so far! :)

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What had been done to him, she thought, to make him at the same time so vulnerable and so strong. He had been almost clinical in his self description, when he spoke about what he'd been through he had stated fact with a strange detachment. Yet, he had feelings, hidden deep inside, beneath what ever it was that They had put him through and he seemingly thought it would be best to hide them. That single tear had been more eloquent that a whole torrent. Arianne had seen broken people times and times over. Parents holding their dying child, men and woman being diagnosed with horrible illnesses, children seeing their parents slowly losing their minds to dementia... Yes, she had seen broken. She had been taught how to deal with it, how to behave with grieving people, how to help ease their pain, yet she didn't know what to say to that man, that very broken man that desperately kept trying to hold on to his shield and armour, that refused to show his human side, yet viscerally craved to do so. So she just sat beside him and wrapped her arm around him. Reflecting on it later on, she realized she should have waited to ask those questions. They had slipped from her lips before her brain could restrain them, making her feel like she had pushed the knife further in the wound. Had he killed that man? Who was she trying to fool... She already knew the answer to that question! Could she trust him? That had also been an irrelevant one, yet she really needed to hear him say so. Of course she could trust him. She already had, allowing him in her house in the dead of the night, following him to this hotel room without knowing what was in his mind. The real question was : is it wise to trust you? And she didn't want to hear the answer to that one yet.

* * *

He had been expecting screams, slaps, tears, curses, not that warm embrace. Was it really how "non agent" people reacted to such a confession? Was it how he would have reacted had he not underwent the procedures, the chem alteration, the missions... Had he really lost that much.

He could not afford to think about it now. He needed to move, to get in the train, go to the cache in Liverpool, get his new passport and cards, get to know his next mark's habits and terminate him. If he didn't, They would come investigate, They would find her and hurt her. He remembered the file he had heard about. Another agent who had fallen in love while in a mission. The agent had been "set aside" They had told him and the "liability" had been taken care of. He knew too well what "taken care of" meant. She had been eliminated and he could not bear to expose Arianne to such an end. He had to leave.

- I need to go now, he heard himself say. I have to be somewhere very soon, for work.

There was a delay before she answered him.

- Are you going to kill again, she ask him, shifting uncomfortably next to him.

- Yes, he whispered.

- How long do you need to keep doing this?

- Until I fail, he said. Until I die, he thought.

They remained side by side a little while longer, neither one of them knowing what to do, what to say. It's not every day one follow a trained assassin through the city. Finally, Aaron stood up.

- Wait! She said, trying to delay the inevitable. Let me at least take off your stitches, I brought scissors, she added pulling the metal tool from her sweater pocket.

He looked at her dumbfounded.

- You still want to help me? I am a killer you know? An assassin. I kill people! I'm dangerous.

- Yes, I know, she told him, standing in front of him. Yet you did not kill that night, nor the morning that followed, nor tonight. So yes, I still want to help you Aaron.

Motioning for him to sit on the bed, she went in the little bathroom and brought a soapy towelette. In silence, she kneeled once more between his legs and proceeded to clean his face, being really thorough around the stitches. She then cut the tread just bellow the knot and carefully pulled them out. He didn't move at all during the procedure. In fact, he was barely breathing, once again looking at her face, trying not to think about her very warm skin. He never wanted to forget it. In fact, he know he wouldn't. His memory was phenomenal and he would probably still recognize her twenty years from now, given he managed to live that long.

- You healed fast, she whispered once she was done. The scars are barely visible!

- It's the chems... Wounds are less painful, heal faster and scar less, among other things, he supplied looking at his feets.

- I don't want you to go, she suddenly blurted out.

When he didn't seems to have registered what she said she continued.

- You could settle down, tell them you've changed your mind. You don't have to be a killer.

- I can't quit Arianne. It's not a job, it's my life. When I agreed to join the program I gave them my life.

- Promise me to come back.

At that last remark, his eyes that had been fixed on his shoes during their conversation shot back to her face. Had he heard right? Had she gone completely mad? To see him, him! Again?

- Have you lost your mind?

- No, I too won't to see you again, she mumbled, blushing.

- Have you not listened to me? They could kill you if They found out! He was now gripping her shoulders with both hands, squeezing hard enough to bruise. I can't let that happen! After today, you will never see me again and you must promise me never to come looking for me again. You must forget I ever existed.

Damm, his eyes were burning! Don't let the tears out, it will make it harder, he thought. So he steeled himself for her reply.

- I won't forget, she said. Her voice breaking, she added, I can't.

Even with his chem inhanced memory, the next few seconds remained blurry, yet engraved in his memory. Her warm and soft hand was at the base of his skull, pulling him closer. Than her lips were in his own, chapped, salty and wetted with tears. It was clumsy at best, she clearly hadn't kissed many times, yet it was the best he ever remembered having.

Than she was gone.

* * *

It had been three months since she had left him in that dusty hotel room. She had upheld her promise and had not tried to find him again. Even if she had tried, she doubted she would have have been successful. She had not forgotten him though. She could not banish the memories she had of him. Where was he? Was he wounded again? Who was taking care of him? Had he killed again? Could she have prevented those death by calling the police? Probably not. Assassins were not stopped by petty officers. Had he killed, probably. Was he wounded, she hoped not, but she prefered not to think about it. As for the care, she highly doubted it was optimal.

It was four in the morning when the doorbell rang, waking her. She groggily made her way to the door, nearly tripping on her cat who, annoyed about this unpleasant waking, was mewling indignantly. Who ever was at he door was getting impatient for the bell rang again, followed by heavy but slow pounding on the door. Once she had reached the entrance, Arianne tried to identify the rude individual who thought it was funny to disturb sleeping people at four in the morning, but she was greeted with nothing but empty blackness. Who ever was at the door must have been obstructing the peephole. Annoyed and not thinking about the potential danger, she opened the door. Hopefully, she had quick reflexes, for she was greeted with a large black mass collapsing on her. She caught it, nearly falling on her back in doing so and tried to understand what was happening when she heard mumbled in her shoulder:

- 'm sorry, 'm so sorry.

It was human, male, sickly pale, sweaty, it had short sandy blond hair sticking to it's forehead, it was shivering.

- Aaron!

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Leave me a little comment, maybe?


	5. Chapter 5

I had my first comment today! Thanks for the support.

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- Aaron!

He made a desperate effort to stand up, griping her shoulder with all his remaining strength but it was in vain and he collapsed on her once more.

- I'm dying Arianne, he gasped, help m... And he passed out.

Feeling panick rise in her chest, Arianne managed to get a firm grip around his rib cage, below his arm pits. She than dragged him to the sofa where he had slept months prior. Getting there was not easily done! He was about 85kg of pure muscles, very unconscious and she had had a long day at work and had barely slept 3 hours. Fear for his life gave her the strength to lift him just enough to dump him on the couch. Taking a few second to simply breath out to avoid panic, she closed her eyes and counted down from five. Once she reached zero, she was in "hospital mode" and ready to face what ever had brought her mysterious agent back.

Once she had made sure he was still breathing and had a pulse, she went to her room to get her stethoscope and made a quick stop in the bathroom to get the thermometer and a cold, wet towel. Her first glance at him had told her he was probably fighting a very height fever going by his skin tone and the abundant amount of sweat that made his face glitter and his hair stick to his brow.

Getting quickly back at his side, she managed to peel off his heavy coat. Beneath it, he was wearing a grey knitted jacket which, hopefully, had a zipper. She removed it to, cursing his weight for making it so arduous. His T-shirt was completely drenched in sweat. Choosing to keep it on for the moment, she placed the towel on his forehead and the thermometer in the crook of his arm pit. It would not be precise, but he was taking quick and shallow breath trough his open mouth and there was no way she was turning him on the side to take a rectal temperature after all the trouble she had gone trough pulling him on the sofa.

- 40,7'C axillary! She screamed, looking at the result. What has got into you this time!

She needed to think and fast! Fever was good, it was a natural protection against microorganisms, but this was getting out of hand. 40,7 axillary meant nearly 41,2 systemic. This was too high! The chemical reactions keeping the body alive could not be performed properly at such temperatures. She needed to cool him off, but how? She had no intra rectal acetaminophen at home, and the drugstores would not open until 0800 o'clock. She could not use cooled I/V fluids because she had none. Simply exposing him naked to room temperature would not be quick enough.

So she ran to the kitchen, opened the fridge and took all the ice packs she had. She also took the towel beside the sink along with a pair of scissors and went back to the living room. She removed his pants and T-shirt by cutting them along the seams. Then, wrapping methodically the ice packs individually in the towel and the tattered pieces of clothing, she placed them on the main arteries that were close to the surface of the skin: one underneath each arm pit, one on each femoral arteries at the junction of his thigh and lower abdomen and finally the last one she placed on his neck right pulse point. With that method, it would take approximatively 2 hours before his body temperature reached the 39,0C safe point. To follow the temperature change, she would have to monitor it continuously. Wether she wanted to or not, she would have to resort to take it intra rectal. So she cut his boxers off and, coating the tip if the thermometer with hand cream, she inserted it inside him. Fortunately, being unconscious, he would not remember the unpleasant sensation.

While she waited for the result, she observed he was still shivering, nearly shaking, his breathing was still rapid and shallow and the sweating was not getting any better. 41,3C it had not lowered! It must have been about 5 minutes, so the temperature should have dropped about 0,1C. She needed to do something else. Once more going into the kitchen, she took the water pot from the fridge along with a bottle of multi surface cleaning product with a spray. Emptying its content down the drain, she rinsed it and filled it with the cold water. Going back by Aaron side, she sprayd him with her new "emergency cooling system". Leaving him for a few seconds, she went to her room and came back carrying a fan which she plugged in the outlet beside the sofa. Orienting the fan so it would blow on her unfortunate patient, she turned it on. She hoped the combined heat needed for the water to evaporate and for the ice to melt would be enough to cool him down.

The next 5 minutes were pure agony. She kept spraying cold water on the naked agent's body, glancing at the thermometer every few seconds to see if her methods were effective. And finally, it lowered. From 41,3 to 41,2.

For the next hour and a half she remained tensed at his side, relentlessly spraying him with water, checking if the ice packs we still cool enough yet not creating ice burns. She listened to his heart beat to make sure it kept beating and observed the rise and fall of his chest to ensure he was still properly breathing. As the time passed, his breathing slowed, his heart rate fell from 179 to 95/min and the shivering subdued. Finally, the temperature reached 39,0.

- Finally, she breathed, proceeding to move the ice packs and lowering the fan's speed.

She let the thermometer in place to monitor any temperature increase, but brought a very light bed sheet to preserve his modesty.

The immediate threat avoided, she decided he needed a bath. After sweating like this he was sticky, greasy and not very pleasantly scented. So, she proceeded to the bathroom and came back with a basin of cool water, soap, 2 towels and a towelette.

Kneeling at his side, she gently lifted his head and placed a towel below it. She than washed his face and wetted his hair. She was very glad to hear him moan lightly and feel him try to move his head to follow the cool cloth: he was regaining consciousness! She finished his little bath with his groin and took the opportunity to remove the thermometer. 39.0c and standing, she could work with that.

Trying to suppress a yawn, she replaced the sheet so it covered him from hip bone to mid thigh and sat on the rug, resting her back on the wall opposit the sofa so she could keep watch on her surprise patient.

From time to time, he would trash a bit or mumble barely recognizable none sense. She would walk to him and crouching by his side she would whisper that he was safe, that she was there for him, that the danger had passed. He would calm down and she would pass a cool, wet towel on his face, neck and chest and check his axillary temperature, pulse and breathing rate. She had also checked his pupil response, trying to establish if there had been brain damage caused by the hyperpyrexia. His pupils reacted normally to light, but she would have to wait for him to wake up to establish if he was really out of harms way.

* * *

At 0830 o'clock, she decided to go to the drug store two streets up to get I/R acetaminophen. Aaron was in no state to swallow pills and he needed antipyretic medication. She left a note on the table next to the sofa in case he woke up while she was away.

When she came back half an hour later, he was still unconscious, lying on his back just like she had left him. He was still shockingly pale and slightly sweaty, but he was no longer shivering. She turned him slightly on his left side and took his temperature once more before she administered him 1000mg acetaminophen I/R. He grunted slightly at the intrusion but did not wake up.

How long had he been like this? Nearly five hours. He had had nothing to drink and now that she thought of it, neither had he peed. It was hardly surprising given the amount of water he had lost sweating, but such a situation could not continue on forever. It could still wait a few minutes though, so she decided to fix herself a little brunch. The initial stress passed, she realized she was famished!

Her appetite sated, she went back to the living room. Aaron was still sleeping, but he looked a lot more peaceful than he had a few hours before. He really was quite a sight now that she had time to look properly. His muscled chest rising and falling slowly with each air intake. His powerful hands, lying partly open at his side and his face. Oh, his face so relaxed it made him look younger. How old could he be? He had a few light wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and to the sides of his mouth, so he was probably at least 30, yet he had the body of a 20 years old athlete. When she had met him three months ago in that old hotel room, he had looked 50, crushed with so much pain, fear and anger. Her best guess would be close to 35, but she was not really good at guessing ages. To avoid thinking about drawing him, asleep on her sofa, she decided she would try to wake him, to get him to drink a little. She had prepared a pitcher of diluted orange juice with a teaspoon of salt while she ate her breakfast. It tasted Iike vomit, but it was a perfect rehydrating solution. Bringing a glass of it with her, she knelt next to him and gently shook him awake.

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Thanks a lot Dagonninja for your comment! I hope you enjoyed this new little chapter :)


	6. Chapter 6

A very short chapter for you my readers. I hope you enjoy it none the less. I still like reviews ;)

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- Aaron, can you open your eyes please? I need you to wake up, she said shaking his shoulder lightly.

He was on her in a flash, tackling her to the ground, using his weight immobilize her and his left forearm choking her. She tried to pull his arm off her throat, but he was too strong.

- Aaron! It's me, she desperately tried to say, but her voice was incapable of producing anything but a pitiful groan.

For a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity, he just stared at her without really seeing. Then, his eyes widened, and in an instant he was kneeling beside her looking in horror at what he had done.

Taking a long and whistling breath, Arianne rolled on her side, turning her back to the man that had nearly killed her. She coughed a few times, the air seemingly scraping her sore trachea.

- Arianne, he said, placing his hand in her shoulder.

His hand had been on her for less than a second when she reacted, shielding herself with one arm, pulling her legs to her chest and slapping his hand away.

- Don't touch me you sick fuck, she croaked.

She heard him pull back stightly and he brought his clenched fists to his temples.

- I'm so sorry Arianne, he said, his voice quivering. It's the training, it kicked in.

- Just shut up for a minute, would you, she screamed. With that, she pulled herself in a tight ball, bringing her opened hands to her hair.

They remained like this for a while, unmoving, neither one of the knowing what to say, what to do.

* * *

Aaron for his part was a little lost. He didn't even remembered how he got to her place. What was the last thing he remembered? He had gone to the clinic, yes, that was it. He was a little late for his regular check-ups, plus he was running low on chems. The doctors had given him a shot of something. A new prototype to test. Had they specified what it was. He couldn't remember. Probably not though. Then, he had taken the bus back to his place. Had he reached it? Yes, he had. He had checked his encrypted computer for new mission notice. He had cleaned his guns, sharpened his knives, done a hundred push-ups or so, a few crunches. He had gone to sleep early, feeling a little queasy. He had woken up the next morning around noon, NOON! He NEVER slept that late. He remembered feeling like he had been hit by a bus, literally. Every joint in his body was painful, every muscle sore. His head was cloudy and he was feeling hot. The chems boosted his immune system, he was not supposed to get sick! Had he been drugged? Had his time come, had he become obsolete? No, no he had thought. They've found out about Arianne! This his how it ends. He remembered running like a mad man toward the train station, everything from that moment on was a blur. He had left his place at 1230 and he had arrived at Arianne's at night. She was wearing her pajamas, that much he remembered. She was all right. Then he blacked out.

* * *

She had spend her night trying to keep him alive, trying to keep his fever under control and this was how he reacted! She knew he was an assassin, an agent he had said that night at the hotel, but he could at least have made an effort to think before attempting to kill her! She had been so scared. His eyes had seemed glassy and dead. His face had been a mask of pure hatred. His body covering hers, pinning her to the ground, powerless against his assault. His strong arm depriving her from oxygen. Just thinking about it made her shiver. It occurred to her for the first time that he was a killer, not just as a word one use to describe a concept, but as a real, living killing machine. She had let a chemically engineered murderer in her house. She had help such a creature to stay alive. What kind of person was she! She let a wracking sob escape her, unable to contain it longer. She let all her fears pour in the tears, it was just too much.

* * *

She was crying and shaking with sobs he noticed. Arianne, his rock, the only stable thing in his universe was breaking down. He could not just stand there and watch, he needed to do something. So despite her previous reaction to physical contact, he shifted close to her and pulled her in his lap. At first, she tensed and tried to resist, but he held strong and she finally collapsed against his chest. He rocked her in his arms for what seemed like an eternity. For once, her skin felt almost cool on his feverish one. He welcomed the comfort despite the awkwardness of the situation. She had buried her face in the nook of his neck, and her tears were running down his naked chest.

Wait, naked, he thought? It was only then that he realized the full extent of the situation. His savior, whom he had assaulted and nearly killed, was crying her soul out because she was affraid of him, an Outcome asset, who was currently holding her against his very naked body. How could things get anymore messed up, he thought.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt her shift and place a very light and extremely shy kiss just below his ear.

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So, what did you think of this one? Or of my story as a whole? I'd love to know.


	7. Chapter 7

So here is another chapter because I received comments :)

i kept that story T but there is an M part if some reader are interested. It's called Being Human M. Yes I am that original!

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- Arianne, he breathed. What are y...

He was silenced with another kiss, on his dried lips this time. She was staring at him, unsure of how he would react and his blank face was not helping her.

He was stunned. No sane woman would ever want to get involved with an asset. First, it was against the rules and second, they were dangerous. But she was so sweet, so strong, so beautiful, so perfect. No! He could not be allowed to taint her. She was looking at him, with her red and swollen eyes, her lips, moisted by her tears, so full, so soft. He was dangerous, he was not allowed to... But he was also a man, in need of comfort. Could he, for once, allow himself to simply be Aaron and not agent Cross. Deciding to take a leap of faith, he crushed his lips on hers, his right hand holding the back of her head, the other, around her waist, pulling her even closer. It was not romantic, it was not sweet, it was desperate, like a drowning man clenching to a life jacket.

Her lips were salty from her tears, slightly cracked and oh so soft. She was obviously new to that kissing business, he could tell by her hesitation in responding to his touch. They pulled apart to catch their breaths.

- Aaron, she whispered against his neck, I think I might have made a mistake.

- Hmmm, what mistake? He asked her, hoping she was not going to push him away. He could not lose her.

There was a delay before she answered him but ,he thought, her still being cradled in his arms was a good sign.

- I think I love you, she said, her voice like a silent whisper.

Had he been stabbed, the shock would have been lesser. Her. Love. Him. Even in his most secret dreams he had never hoped for such a thing. Of course he had fantasized about her being attracted to him but he had never dare hope for so much. He had nothing to offer her but broken shards of his past life and constant menace, yet she had seen something good in him. She had allowed him, a complete stranger, in her house, she had taken care of him, listened to him without running away and now this. It was too much. His armour was gone, torn by her attentions, his training had never prepared him for such a situation, he was truly left bare: human. And he cried. He did not realize it at first, the tears just sneaked out of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks, landing in her hair. He kissed the top of her head, holding her tight, his grip nearly bruising. In the few months he had known her, she had become his sanity. Simply knowing she was alive and well somewhere help him to go on with the missions. He would live trough anything for a chance of being with her one day. That triggered a thought that crashed through him like lightning.

- I love you Arianne, I love you so much, he gasped between two sobs.

From there, their kisses grew more heated, still desperate but sweet at the same time. Being very careful not to make her feel trapped again, he changed their position so he was sitting on the carpet with her straddling his hips, giving him a nice view of her pointy nipples trough the white tank top she wore as a pajamas. Running his hands up and down her sides, occasionally passing his thumbs over her breasts, he lavished her throat with open mouthed kisses, lightly biting below her ear and down her neck. He must have been doing something right, he thought, because she was making the most delightful little sounds and slightly grinding her pelvis against his.

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M part: see my other story, Being Human M, chapter one.

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When it was over, she crawled partly on top of him, draping a leg around his and resting her head on his shoulder. He brought a hand to her waist and caressed her skin lightly making her giggle as he passed over her ribs.

- Did I hurt you? He asked a little worried. After all, she had cried out.

Mimicking his earlier reassurance she said:

- You are perfect Aaron.

And after that she dozed off in his arms.

* * *

Unbeknown to them, in the adjacent appartment, was a recorder. Beside that recorder was a man, with cold, blue, dead eyes. He took the mobile next to him and pressed #. When a voice answered him he said in a deep detached voice:

- Five is emotionally compromised.

- You know how it works, answered the voice at the other end of the line. Fix it! And remember, we need Five alive.

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as always, let me know what you think of this story. I love reviews!


	8. Chapter 8

"We need Five alive".

Well, that was a slight set back. Five was good, really good. That probably explained why he was to be kept alive and not eliminated here and now. After all, They already had Their example, Their legend, about how being emotionally involved with someone would end.

He had been sent after Three a year back and he had carried out his mission perfectly. The thing he had enjoy most was to see the fear and despair in Three's eyes when he had killed his liability. He had screamed and trashed against his restrains while her blood flowed out of her body, the life being drained a milliliter at a time. The truth was, he could have done it in a cleaner way, but he like to indulge in this little passion of his. He enjoyed seeing these laughable emotions on other's faces. How it weakened them was truly amusing.

He had realized Three could have escaped a few times during the fight, but he had missed them all, trying to protect her, to get her to follow him! How could someone's brain become so messed up!

He let out a ice cold snicker. He, luckily, didn't have to suffer from this crippling weakness, an extensive surgical procedure had seen to it.

His line of thought was broken by a single light "beep" from his phone.

"bring the liability in" was written on the little screen.

That was going to need a little planning, he thought.

* * *

Arianne woke up at noon, wrapped in her blanket, in her bed. She could hear the shower running, so Aaron mustn't yet have left. She stood up, a slight stinging pain between her legs reminding her of their previous activity. What had she been thinking, engaging in intercourse with a sick stranger! No, she corrected, Aaron was not a stranger. She didn't knew much about him, but he made her feel good, protected and despite his dangerous "training" that had nearly cost her her life she could not help but have feelings for him. Dressing up, she went to the kitchen to fix them a little lunch.

She heard him knock lightly on the door frame before entering the kitchen. He had been careful not to scare her this time. Holding her from behind, he kissed her neck lightly.

- Morning, he said. How do you feel?

- Great, though night shift is not for me, she answered him, turning around to kiss him in the process. How are you? Still sick?

She noticed he had putted on his clothes from the previous day and looked noticeably better.

He chuckled lightly, she was always so concerned about his well-being.

- Yeah, thanks to your good care.

- No more fever?

- None what so ever! He smiled

She kissed him once more, than, coming down from that little homey bubble, she asked:

- When are you leaving?

His smile vanished. He had been thinking of a way to break the new to her in a nice way. After all, she had expressed feeling for him and he felt terrible to leave suddenly after last night. It seemed she had anticipated his words.

- As soon as possible.

He was hoping They wouldn't have followed him that night. But it was a fool's hope and he knew it. An agent going somewhere he had no business going to was suspicious. The same agent going at that same place twice was highly suspicious, especially if said place was the home of a woman. He had made her a target, labeled her as a liability. Seeing her, even only once more would surely sign her death warrant.

- I will not be back, he said avoiding her eyes.

- You already said that last time, she said, chuckling, yet here you are!

- If I ever came back, they would kill you, do you understand! I can't let that happen. I meant what I said last night...morning... It doesn't matter. I love you and I prefer to never see you again than to see you hurt.

As she said nothing he continued.

- There is a gun in my jacket pocket. I need you to keep it and keep it close. They won't come for you this time, he said, half for himself, half for her. It's just for protection.

That said, he went to the living room and retrieved the weapon. She had followed him blankly. He placed his gun in her hands.

- This is the safety, you need to click it open or it won't fire. There is a full spare magazine here.

He placed it in her hands, taking back the gun.

- To reload you press here.

The previous magazine fell and he caught it in his hand.

- And you insert it like this, until it clicks. Ok?

She nodded, looking a little lost. She would remember, he thought. She had to.

With that, he proceeded to the door.

- Thank you for everything Arianne. I'm so sorry for causing you so much trouble, he added.

She ran to him and hugged him, the gun and magazine still in her hands. Her bottom lips quivering, she told him:

- Go.

* * *

She stayed at her door a long time after he had climbed down the stairs and disappeared. She could not yet wrap her mind around everything that had happened in those few hours. First she was playing nurse, trying to save his life. Than, he was trying to murder her, which led to them making love on the living room rug. Hours later, he was telling her how to load a gun because she was probably in danger, but not too much, and finally, he was gone.

The only traces of him having even been to her house were tattered boxers and t-shirt in the garbage bin and dried sweat on the sofa. So much for the beauty of love, she thought.

* * *

He had been odious to her. Getting her involve in all this, agreeing to get her help, coming back for more, allowing himself to fall for her, letting her fall for him and leaving too late. He was sorry. That was a good one! How many times had he told her that? Even his chem enhanced memory hadn't kept track of it. He was responsible for her fate, a fate so many times worst than death.

* * *

When she left for work that same day, Arianne hadn't taken the gun with her. She had stored it in her wardrobe foolishly thinking she would not need it. Come on! Who would kill an innocent nurse in the middle of the street simply for seeing a man two times. In the few hours between the moment he had walked trough her door to the moment she left for work, she had come to the conclusion that Aaron had played her. He was probably a petty thief, at worst a worthless assassin if he had told the truth when he said he had killed that teacher, and he had lied through his teeth first to gain her trust, second to get in her pants and finally to escape. Of course she had believed it, swallowed it all. She had been naive and she had paid for it. That was that.

So when a car stopped a few meter from her at the corner of a street she took no notice. When a tall man stepped out of it and walked past her, she merely noticed he looked angry. When she finally noticed something was off, it was too late. She felt a light sting on the side of her neck and suddenly the angry man was holding her, looking concerned.

- Are you not feeling well ma'am, he said.

Something was off, she could tell now. His eyes were glassy, expressionless yet his face mimicked concern. She wanted to tell him she was alright, that there was no reason to make a fuss, she wanted to run away from him as fast as she possibly could, yet she couldn't. Her sight got all blurry, the sounds around her mixing together, the voices distorted. She felt the stranger wrap his arms around her, lifting her from the ground.

- Allow me to get you to a clinic.

* * *

Of course, I would like to receive reviews! Please, let me know what you think of it so far.


	9. Chapter 9

To those who wanted Arianne to remain alive: you should have been careful!

* * *

He had been under a lot of stress these last few weeks. He had spent a lot of time between missions trying to get informations on Arianne's whereabouts. It had been hard to find without arousing suspicion from Them but he had been successful. She had apparently resigned from the hospital she had been working at when he met her and moved out of the country under a different name. Arianne was officially reported missing, but a certain Emilie was now working in a hospital in Montreal. He knew it was for the best, yet he found it hard to accept. She was truly gone and he could only hope she was safe and happy.

Today, He was due for a rendezvous at the labs. He needed chems and he had a full bloodwork to deliver. He arrived early, as usual ,and was greeted by a nurse in a white uniform. Normally, he was directed to a room which contained an examination table, a sink, a counter with glass drawers full of medical instruments, test tubes, needles and a chair for the doctor. They never sat down Aaron had noted during his previous visits. They came in, looked, probed, tested, questioned and left. This time, however, the room was different. It was completely empty. There was a door opposite the one he just entered and no windows. He noted the ceiling was different too. These changes in the routine made him nervous, not overly so, but slightly on edge.

- Wait here. The doctor will be with you shortly, said the nurse.

And he found himself alone. He had been pacing the room for a few minutes when his blood turned cold. It had only been a very light clicking sound but it was enough to trigger his fight mode. The doors had been locked.

Then, from the ceiling came the telltale hissing of gas being released in the room. A first, he held his breath, but he could only do so for so long. After a little more than five minutes, he inhaled a huge gulp of air, unable to deprive his body of oxygen any longer. Instantly, he felt wobbly. His sight was blurry, the room was spinning and his whole body felt weak. His mind was getting foggier with each breath he took. Finally, he crashed on the floor and the world went black.

* * *

He was still alive, that much he was sure of. His brain has pounding something furious in his skull and it was making him nauseous. Without opening his eyes, he could tell he was sitting in a chair. How he got there, he couldn't remember. Trying to lift his hands to his head, he was met with resistance. His eyes snapped open at once sending a wave of blinding pain through his head. He was tied up in a chair. His head was free, but his arms and legs were restrained with heavy leather manacles. He was pulling against it, trying to break free when someone spoke from behind him.

- So, agent Cross, you might be wondering why we brought you here today.

Choosing not to answer, Aaron continued to pull against his restrains. It was no use, the leather was too strong and the chair was bolted to the concrete floor.

- We have that unpleasant discussion today because it has come to our attention that you have become emotionally compromised. What was her name again...

Aaron was speechless. She was safe! She had moved out, he had seen the identity change papers, she was living in Montreal, her name was Emilie Lamontagne...

- Ah, yes, here it is: Arianne Mercier, 22, former nurse at St-Bartholomew's hospital. The asset sent after her was given carte blanche. She reportedly slipped in the bath tub and drowned. It's a shame really, to lose such a delightful young person, sighted the unknown man.

- It's impossible, Aaron breathed.

- Oh, no I assure you, it is quite possible. We forged a few documents to keep you thinking she was fine until you completed the missions you were sent on, stated the man in a calm and equal voice.

He could have been talking about the weather he wouldn't have been more expressive.

- How could you! She had done nothing wrong! He screamed, pulling at his restrains like a mad man.

- Indeed, she was innocent, answered the man, walking to stand in front of the broken agent.

- Then why? Roared Aaron.

There was a little silence, then the man clicked his tongue in disapproval.

- You know why. The voice was deadly cold now.

Ashamed, the bonded man let his head fall on his chest.

- No, he whispered.

The man in front of him heard him none the less.

- Yes, agent Cross, and you need to say it.

- No, he replied louder this time.

The man bend over him and whispered in his ear:

- It was because of you. Arianne died by your hand, because you were weak.

She was gone. Dead gone. They had caught up with her. All that because he had been careless. "Trust no one, never let your guard down".

* * *

Aaron woke up screaming, drenched in cold sweat, tears rolling down from his eyes. Unwrapping the sheet that restrained his legs, he hastily stood up and went to his computer. Wiping the remaining dressed up and went out for a long run. That same vivid dream had woken him at least once a week since he had left her appartment. He knew where she was, her new name, her new work place, her new address... He knew everything he needed to know. She was safe.

* * *

She woke up in a white room, lit with bright white neons. Where was she? Where was the stranger with dead eyes? Wat was to become if her? Had Aaron said the truth when he said They were going to get her? The truth was, she had never been so scared in her life. Her clothes had been changed while she was unconscious and she was now dressed in a white examination dress. Her hair had been clipped, she could feel the cold air conditioning on her bare scalp. She also had a rigid metal bracelet around her left wrist which indicated nothing but random numbers and letters:

MEM-TSMA-24376

There was also a I/V drop plugged in her left hand. She noticed it was a normal Saline solution. Was she in a hospital? Was that the clinic her abductor had talked about?

She was getting out of the bed when the door slid open, letting a man dressed in white scrub walk in. He seemed surprise to see her up and immediately told her to lie back.

- If you cause any trouble, you will be sedated, he added, placing a little plastic cup in her hands.

- Where am I? I was abducted, please can you call the police.

- I'm not at liberty to answer your questions. Take the pills.

- What are t...

- Take the pills or we will sedate you and install a nasogastric tube, barked the man.

Arianne eyes widen at that display of authority. She was not in an hospital, that was for sure, and she was not going to take just anything because a man in white said so.

- I'm not taking anything, she yelled back at him, I want to get out of here!

- Code white, code white room 24, said the man in a little black piece clipped to his uniform.

Three second later, four security guards, fully armed with Kevlar vests barged in the room. The man in white, probably a nurse thought Arianne, made a sign and they circled the bed and grabbed her, pinning her to the mattress.

- You should have taken the pills 37, always take the pills, he said half remorseful before injecting her with what she guessed was a powerful sedative.

* * *

She woke up feeling sick, her mouth dry with her wrists and ankles tied to the bed. Trying to swallow nearly made her vomit: the nasogastric tube had been installed. She tried to take it of, but her bound hands could not reach for it. She tried to untie the bonds, but they had been tied up by professional and she could not reach the nots either. Feeling so trapped and powerless made her want to cry. She called for for someone, she screamed for help, she begged to be untied, but no one came. There was a little square window on the door, so she tried to see if someone was outside only to realize there's was no one. She could see door similar to her own though, aligned in what seemed to be a long corridor. She had managed cut and burn her skin trying to get out of the restrains with no avail and had broken her voice screaming for help when finally, the door opened. It was again the man in white.

- Are you happy with yourself now? All tied up?

Not waiting for an answer he continued.

- Of course not! Look, if you are good, I'll untie you so you can use the bathroom and eat your dinner.

She opened her mouth to tell him to go fuck himself and what she thought of the treatments she had received when he shushed her. Shocked by such a demeaning act, she closed her mouth, forgetting what she was about to say.

- If you cause a scene like yesterday though, you will remain tied up, I'll put you in diapers and you will be force-fed. Chose wisely, he finished, his voice deadly cold.

* * *

After about a week that seemed like a month, she resigned herself to comply to the "treatments" and was allowed to remain without restrains in her room. The door was always locked and the nurse was never alone when he opened the door once or twice a day to hand her the pills she was forced to take. He never left the room without checking she had properly swallowed the medications and always reiterated the threats he had made the first day. She was to comply, otherwise, she would be tied up.

* * *

She had lost count of the time and days she had passed in the white room. The neons were always lit and the nurses came at different times. Her mind was playing trick on her too. Three times now she had dreamed of things she had never seen. It was the war in a sandy country. She was carrying a heavy assault riffle and the sun was making her feel like she was melting. She had not told any of this to the nurses.

* * *

He woke up, stared at her hands and started to panic. Where was he? What had happened to his hands? Why did he had breasts all of a sudden? More important, where was his team? Who were those men that came barging in the room? He fought, kicked, punched, tried to tackle his assailants. God, she was weak! He was tried to pick up his gun, but he was in a paper dress. He was tackled to the ground and sedated.

* * *

A doctor was asking questions about his team. He gave truthful answers. Later, a general came in the room and thanked him for his sacrifice. Sacrifice? Memories flooded his mind. He was wounded, a roadside bomb had blown up their convoy. He was bleeding out on the scorching sand, his legs torn and mangled. Lieutenant Thomas J. James had died on the Iraqi sand. But if he was dead, whose body was this?

* * *

After a two month and a half, she could not even sit alone in the bed. They had used her to bring back to life a lieutenant, a murdered mafia man, an abducted kid found dead and an agent who had died before divulging the information he had collected. The pills were a miracle! Sadly, one "transfert" was enough to wreck the mind and body of the living receptor. Twelve test subjects on the thirteen they had had died during the first "transfer" or the second. The test subject 37 had been pretty productive, which was why she was still alive despite being nearly vegetative.

After the fourth "transfert" the scientist had chosen to stop using her as a living receptor to instead study her brain. There must have been something in there that made her so resilient. Low dosage of sedative were given to her daily to prevent any aggressive behaviors that could lead to damaging her even more.

The research was brought at an abrupt end though when the funds and resources were transferred to another field. 37 as merged to another more promising department of research: the viral studies.

* * *

Dr. Marta Shearing sighed. The three new test subject we not very promising. One was brain dead and the two others were not much better. How was she supposed to test the Mind Virus on brainless people? Not people. Test subjects, death row criminal and desperate volunteers. She didn't want to know anymore about it.

* * *

This was even better than Three.

The man was persuaded, for weeks now, that she was alive, yet "dreaming" she was dead because of him while she was secretly kept, neither fully dead nor fully alive, in a lab somewhere. He was quite proud of the stunt he had pulled on Five. It had been hard to find the proper mind bending techniques and drugs, but being given carte blanche was a very precious key. He had had access to restricted test substances, to behavioral methods... He had even be granted the permission to use the lab as the theater for his act as a reward for bringing the liability in so quickly while forging datas to keep Five operational yet not inclined to develop such a relation ever again. His true reward though, was occasionnaly watching Five waking up in tears, then reassure himself by looking at the falsified datas: that weakling was a wreck!

* * *

a little review please?


	10. Chapter 10

_So back after a long pause (I was taken by MassEffect...) I offer you another chapter! The updates won't be regular though..._

_your comments were rewarded :P_

_I hope the lines will help you understand better the changes of person or personality. I know it is confusing by moment: Arianne has to deal with tree minds inside one body after all..._

* * *

Marta Shearing was amazed! She knew the mind pills were working wonders, but she had never thought it could be to such an extent. Three out of the nine Outcomes had had their IQ rated below average. She had never met with them at the first stages of the process, so she could not judge first hand of their progress. She had seen, though, the written tests they had been given. Some had really come a long way.

What she was witnessing now was even more than she could have ever hoped for. Not only did the pills enhanced the cognitive functions, they also allowed it to regenerate! Subject 4, who had been neuro-vegetative at the beginning of the process was now beginning to respond to simple stimuli such as light, or pain. Subject 91, which, according to the state of his skull and bones, had probably fell from a roof, was beginning to talk and interact with the medical corp. What really struck her was 37's response to the treatment. After only a few weeks of mind remodeling, she was completely off the sedative and could now stand alone, walk around and even jog! Her EEG was showing above average neural activity, not unlike the Outcomes, and her brain scan showed a perfectly normal brain tissues, where, weeks ago, there had been black, dead neurons spots.

* * *

She was getting stronger. The blue pills they made her take were helping clear her brain. Lieutenant James had taken a liking to this new body of his. Of course, he avoided thinking about the hows and whys of the situation, but he liked it. He liked her too: Arianne her name was. She was the original owner of the body they now shared. She had fought him at first: confronting him relentlessly to his painful death in the Iraqi desert. That had been extremely unpleasant, for he felt himself fading each time he remembered those cursed moments. She had hoped he would be gone after a while, like the Mafia men or that last one... some sort of agent with crucial informations. She wanted her mind back, but she also wanted freedom and that she could not achieve on her own. She had no fighting skill and the only target practice she had ever had was with water guns. So, one day, she had allowed him to surface to expose her plan. He would strengthen her, allow her muscles to memorize basic fighting stances and attacks, and in exchange, once they were free she would allow him to see his wife and son one last time.

* * *

Training was a bitch, Aaron thought. They gave you barely enough chems to make the road, almost no informations concerning the terrain and you were not even allowed to make contact with anyone! To annoy him even further, he was now followed by a pack of wolfs and he hadn't have a decent night of sleep in at least 86 hours. The only up side, was that while staying awake, he was free of the nightmares that otherwise plagued his nights.

* * *

Was he an agent? Here in the middle of nowhere, in a log cabin? He claimed not to, but Aaron had seen the blood work on the counter. Only agents like him had that to complete. So he decided to ask questions. He had been good at it before being recruited, playing dumb and curious. He knew he could pass for an innocent men if he wanted to, asking questions, poking his nose where he shouldn't have. Even as stupid as he had been, he had always been able to make people talk, except, he never understood the use of it until he took the chem treatment...

* * *

He could have had more answers! Why had they felt the need to blow them sky high! He needed to make it out of here alive. He had to take that bug out of his thigh first, than he needed answers, but most of all, he needed chems.

* * *

It was quite extraordinary, the power of mind over body, Leutenant James thought. Although the time was nearly impossible to grasp, he assumed they must have been training for about three weeks and Arianne was showing a lot of progress. The nasty fever they caught had slowed their progress, nealry killed them too, but since then, their chances of escaping had drastically increased! Yet he was no fool: even as it was now and even if he had been in his original body, escaping a fully guarded facility was out of the question. All they need now was a bit of luck.

That "luck" came under the form of a blaring alarm while the nurse was passing their meds. Both guards flanking him unholstered their weapons and ran up the corridor. The nurse himself looked lost and unsure of what to do with his two goons gone. 37 had been known to have caused trouble before she was transferred. Sensing a chance of escape, Leutenant James sprung in action. Grabbing the man by the shoulders, he tackled him down and smashed his head against the concrete floor rendering him unconscious. He than roughly pulled the IV line out of this arm and ran. He had never been a very good strategist... He had absolutely no idea were to go. The corridor was deserted, but he really did not fancy waiting until someone showed up. Taking a chance, he went right. The guards had ran left after all and he really wanted to avoid confrontation if possible.

As they passed by other doors like the one in their rooms, he felt Arianne taking over. She could not leave them here and do nothing! This clinic, or whatever it was, would be the end of them. She tried to turn around and find a control panel, the nurses office, anything to open the doors, but he fought her. For a moment, their body collapsed while the minds were fighting together. This disagreement nearly cost them their escape.

Having muffled Arianne's protests, the Leutenant picked them up the floor. There would be a time to think about others, but it was definitely not now. Great, thought he, as a man in a white lab coat ran toward them. The man was fat and sweating profusely. Not a very dangerous opponent, thought James. Crouching, he grabbed the man's belt and collar and used his own inertia to bring him down. He than kicked the man's throat and ran. It was probably a matter of minutes before an other alarm was raised. They needed to find a way out and quickly.

There was a desk not ten meters in front of them. She needed to make him stop. Releasing the other prisoners would likely increase their chances of escaping. With all the doors unlocked, they would not be the only fugutive to catch.

She was really beginning to annoy him with her idea of freeing any other than themself! But he had to admit, she had a point. He made his way to the desk. He silently thanked God, for their was a computer open and on it, a plan of the floor they were on. Rapidly checking the screen, he located a fire escape. There was also a command to open the "test subject"'s doors. Open all, he clicked. There was a loud buzzing sound, and the doors snapped open. Expecting a riot, or something close by, he was disappointed when only two others shyly looked through the opened doors. So much for covering their tracks!

Without wasting another second, he ran for the escape door. It was looked, obviously, but for such an advanced facility, he was surprised: a few smashes with a fire estinguisher were enough to open it. He was running down the stairs, nearly jumping from top to bottom as yet another alarm went off. Hoping the guards were occupied dealing with the first one and the "test subjects" he kept running. When there was no more stairs to climb down, he turned right in what seemed to be a small and run down storage room. On the left wall was an old rusty black door, kicking it open, he was rewarded with fresh air and an alley. They were out! Deciding it would be wise not to linger here, he sprinted. At the end of the alley was a busy street, with cars honking, pedestrians and firefighter trucks. On the other side was a cul-de-sac. They had but one option: make a mad dash in the street and hope or the best. For the first time since exiting their cell, Leutenant James realized they were dressed in a white paper exam dress... Well, that would slightly complicate matters!

* * *

He woke up. He was cold. Whe was he? Where was his Teddy? Where was Mommy? And Papa? Why was he alone in the dark? Tears were rolling down his cheeks and sobs shaking his body. He only wanted to go home.

So he got up on unsteady feet and slowly walked bare foot through the park. The shadows were too dark, too tall and there was a cracking noise behind him. Gasping, he turned around. There was no one, but he could see a light behind a tree, like the shimmering eye of an Orc! Terrified, he ran away from it.

He had reached the street! He was safe! The Orc and monsters from the park would not dare attack him under the street lamps. It was an unknown street and he could not find his house.

Would Papa be angry if he asked a stranger for help? That house had flowers on the porch and a light lit. It looked like a nice house, he would ring there.

Climbing the stairs had been easy! He was happy. He must have grown too because he didn't have to stretch to reach the doorbell.

* * *

Who could that be? Ringing at such a late hour! Getting up from her sofa, Suzan tighten her pink bathrobe around her. The doorbell rang again and she said,

- Don't be hasty, give an old lady the time to reach the door!

Opening the door, she was faced with quite an unusual sight. A young woman with shaved hair, looking like she had seen the Grim Reaper himself and dressed in a tattered and dirty trench coat was looking at her with big scared eyes.

- Have you seen my Mommy or Papa? I'm scared, said the woman, tears rolling down her dirty cheeks.

* * *

To clear up matters :

Arianne as both Lieutenant Thomas J. James and The Boy's mind inside her head.

Aaron has escaped the explosion at the beginning of the movie and will now try to reach Martha Shearing

Martha just survived the shooting in the labs. It was that which caused the first alarm which led to the escape of Arianne.

The man with dead blue eyes is an OC created to become an Arch-enemy.

Suzan is a 87 years old lady living in an apartment near the park where The Boy woke up in Arianne's body.


End file.
